Personal Questions A Descent into Madness
by silversurf4
Summary: Crews & Reese together, almost, but not quite. Is this finished? You tell me - feedback please. Unbeta'd and yes, my beta is going to take out a contract on my life. Completed 5/27/2010
1. Chapter 1 Dreams & Butterflies

**Personal Questions – A Descent into Madness**

**I. Dreaming of Butterflies**

"Reese," he began their day (as he did all days) with a question. Despite the fact she told him she did not want to "have the talk" they seemed to have some sort of talk every day. It was becoming something that she expected.

"What," she groaned.

"Do you dream?" He asked simply.

"Everybody dreams Crews," she said thinking she got off easy. Simple answer.

"The great Taoist master Chuang Tzu once dreamt that he was a butterfly fluttering here and there. In the dream he had no awareness of his individuality as a person. He was only a butterfly."

"How nice for him," she remarked dryly.

"Wait, there's more," he chided.

"Of course there is," she grumbled.

Charlie shot her a very uncharacteristic hard look, silently rebuking her frequent, smart aleck comments and continued. "Suddenly, he awoke and found himself laying there, a man again. But then he thought to himself, '_Was I before a man who dreamt about being a butterfly, or am I now a butterfly who dreams about being a man_?' It's nice, huh?"

"Do you do this to torture me?" she asked him over her coffee, which was too hot to drink, but she wanted it badly. She blew into the tiny hole in the lid and eyed it suspiciously.

"It's too hot," he warned.

"What?"

"Your coffee. It's too hot to drink." He smiled and offered her a grape instead.

She scowled at him, "how could you possibly know how hot my coffee is?"

"I watch, I observe," he said smiling.

"You observe me?" she asked cocking her head to the side.

He nodded and chewed thoughtfully on a grape.

"Why?" she grinned knowing she'd caught him in an admission he never should have made.

Charlie gulped loudly and motioned he couldn't talk because his mouth was full, but his face bore a 'oh, shit' expression as he realized his error.

It was priceless. So much so that Dani forgot how hot her coffee was and pulled on the cup, then squinted as the fiery liquid burned her mouth. Both stayed silent mulling their thoughts and dealing with their own oral dilemmas.

Dani's tongue burned and her eyes watered as she forced herself to wait out the hot liquid before swallowing and scalding her throat as well as her tongue. "Jesus, that's hot," she said after finishing.

Charlie knew better than to laugh. He suddenly found his stapler very interesting and took it apart to prove it. "Hmmm, guess it doesn't need staples," he remarked quietly to himself.

Dani took off her jacket, put it over the back of her chair sat down, put her elbows on her desk and her chin in her hands and waited for him to look up. She knew he would and she was nowhere near done with him yet. "Look at me Crews," she directed quietly, "dreaming isn't gonna get you out of this one."

He pulled on his too tight collar and risked a glance at her to find her eyes dancing with mirth, she wasn't pissed at all; she was barely containing a smile.

His look was shy, nearly embarrassed and she relented. "I don't dream about butterflies, Crews….or being a butterfly. Now, is that really the question you wanna go with?"

He almost laughed. She was toying with him, playing. She was smiling.

"I don't dream about butterflies either," he confessed.

"Tomorrow," she smiled, "ask a better question." She pronounced before redirecting her chair and her attention to her computer screen.

"Is that Zen?" he whispered across the desk. When she tried to shoot a glare back at him, he winked conspiratorially. She ducked her head to cover a giggle and his heart soared.

The next day, he waited for her to arrive. Juggling case files and coffee, as she did every day, she waited.

Finally, when he said nothing for a good minute, she asked him, while sighing, "okay, Crews what's the question today?"

He shrugged and told her, "no question, just this." He nudged a Styrofoam cup at her.

"I brought my own," she told him gesturing with her coffee cup from the kiosk downstairs.

"Suit yourself, stubborn," he teased as he left his desk headed to the conference room to begin laying out their case.

She waited thirty whole seconds before her curiosity got the better of her and she cautiously opened the lid on the cup. _Damn him_, she thought because staring up at her she found ice cubes. She smiled and felt butterflies.

**II. The Scent of A Woman**

"Can I ask you a personal question?" he began as the elevator doors shut.

Dani simply glared at him, her look said "what do you think", her mouth twisted oddly, but she said nothing so he continued, "if I don't - it'll drive me crazy. Crazier. And if I'm crazier - that won't be good for either of us," he offered in explanation.

She sighed, a long heavy sigh, one that he knew meant '_go ahead, but I'm not pleased about it and I'm possibly not answering_', but he asked anyway, he had to.

For the past few weeks he'd noticed, but the last few days he'd been driven mad by his inability to put his finger on the scent of her shampoo or body wash. It was a fruit - that much he knew, but which one. It was also new. He'd tried everything else. He knew he'd probably leaned too close, one too many times, trying to get enough of a whiff of the tantalizing fruit smell. She probably thought he was a freak. Realistically, Dani Reese always thought he was sort of a freak, but she tolerated him reasonably well, but he knew this was over the line – even for him.

"Go ahead, ask," she directed, staring hard at him. Charlie suddenly realized he hadn't said anything. His mouth went dry as he realized wasn't entirely sure how to ask.

"You… uh….that is your….well, uh," he stumbled over his own tongue.

Dani was now mildly amused at her partner's fumbling, "just ask Crews."

"You smell really different. Good different, fruity. Not that you didn't smell good before, but I was wondering what you're using," he finally spit out and blushed furiously. "Is it a shampoo? Or a…what do they call that liquid soap stuff? Body gel?" He tried to focus on the information instead of the visual image of her that leapt into his mind of her in the shower of that crack house on their first case.

She smiled slightly, curious and a tiny bit impressed he'd noticed. She paused a moment and then gave him what he wanted, "it's body wash and yes, it is fruit. Apricot."

"Apricot," he said in confirmation, exhaling audibly like he'd just accomplished something hard.

She smiled broadly behind her dark glasses, "is that why you've been doing so much leaning this week?" He nodded, she laughed softly, taking her shades off. "Good, cause you were freaking me out," her smile reached all the way to her warm brown eyes and she immediately averted her gaze, looking down shyly.

Charlie was surprised to find his stomach did flip-flops at the sounds of Dani's laughter. A strange tight sensation crossed his abdomen and a look crossed his face, which she probably misinterpreted, but he couldn't control. He didn't know what she thought. He'd already asked too much, but he was suddenly seized by the idea that she thought he was thinking about her in a sexual way_. He wasn't was he? It was just the indefinable scent? Not the woman under it, right?_

Dani returned to a studious examination of her nails. Charlie couldn't help himself, he had such poor impulse control when it came to smells; he just had to confirm it for himself. He leaned against the wall of the elevator, edging closer. "Could I just?"

She examined him closely for a moment, her eyes narrow and skeptical. She seemed to consider his request for a moment, judging if he was up to no good, but deciding he was just being Crews, she relented. Just when he thought she was going to slap him, her eyes softened and she inclined her head to the side and she swept her hair to the side, "honestly, I think you are nuts, but go ahead," giving him permission.

Charlie leaned close and inhaled deeply, his pulse quickened and his breath hitched at their closeness, before he drew back carefully, proclaiming "yep, apricot." He couldn't help that he licked his lips as he drew back slightly; his mouth was suddenly the Sahara.

She straightened, but they were still much closer than usual. He watched her pulse beat across the artery that crossed her collarbone as she unconsciously mirrored his gesture, licking her own lips. "Okay, that's enough," she said in a low tone, as she pushed him away with her tiny hands planted in the middle of his pale blue shirt, under his dark blue tie. He let himself be moved, but not before he noticed the confusion and intensity in her dark brown eyes. She felt it too. The elevator bounced to a stop and the doors opened letting the tension abate, like air out of a balloon.

They both relaxed a small measure in the walk to the car, but Dani wasn't done. She had a quid pro quo. "Now you tell me something Crews," she said after she'd turned the car on, but not put it in gear yet. She shifted in her seat to watch him.

He nodded solemnly, afraid she was going to ask him about them, but she didn't she asked him about the thing furthest from his mind at the moment – Bobby Stark.

"How can you tolerate being around Stark after what he did to you?" she seemed angry just about the idea of Stark betraying him. He watched her jaw clench and her face become hard. "He hung you out to dry and you yuck it up with him like nothing happened? How can you do that?" She was working herself up to pissed off.

He contained a smile at the thought - Dani Reese was, without a doubt, the most fiercely loyal partner he'd ever had. She was quite possibly the most loyal person he'd ever met. She'd backed him up even before he'd earned it, before he trusted her and some days he wasn't sure he deserved that measure and confidence. He looked into his lap and gave her the truth she deserved.

"Bobby didn't do anything TO me," he answered levelly. He heard her tight exhalation and knew she was angry. "He also didn't do anything FOR me," he admitted.

"He left his partner hanging. He didn't back you up, that's just….just…" she struggled for the words to express her disgust, "cowardly, despicable, lower than low. And you? You just smile and act all buddy buddy. Why do you do that?" She eyed him very seriously.

It was a serious question, about which she felt strongly. She deserved a serious answer, not the flip Zen response on his tongue. He bit back the Zen and reached for the painful truth.

"He has a wife, Leslie. Did you know that? And three small kids, they were small. Now, well, they're not small anymore. But I was just some wet behind the ears junior partner, barely out of training who was always getting into some sort of trouble," he explained.

"You mean kinda like now?" she joked darkly.

"Exactly like now," he returned her gaze seriously. "Except that I'm 12 years older, and you are not Bobby Stark."

"You got that right," she said defiantly.

"But," he cautioned, "I don't want you to even think about doing that. Never do that for me, Reese. What I choose to do, I alone am responsible for. Me, not you."

"You didn't kill anyone and he let you go down for it. I'd beat him within an inch of his life, if I were you." She was so very vicious when provoked, he knew. The fact she felt this way over a wrong done to him spoke volumes about her devotion, a dedication he felt humbled by.

She was silent for a long moment then she straightened and put the car in reverse. "No partner of mine is going to jail, unless I'm in the cell right next to them," she said to her own image in the rearview.

"I don't want that. I don't want you to do that," he told her clearly. He waited until they were well away from the station before continuing. The car was quiet as he spoke. "There'd be no apricots in prison, Reese. No body wash, no wonderful smelling shampoo, no fresh fruit, no warm cookies, fresh bread or clean sheets, ever. I never want you to even think about doing that for me," he sternly warned her.

"That's my call, not yours Crews," she told him changing lanes and directing her attention away from him. She was ending the conversation, but he still had so much to say. She flipped open her cell and 411'd something and then drove straight ahead, almost as if he wasn't there.

When they arrived she was all business, but Charlie's insides were jumbled up, something to do with her dedication to him that he didn't feel was earned or deserved.

"Wait," he caught her elbow with a bit more force than he needed. She bounced against his chest and he caught her gently in his embrace. They were both momentarily stunned at their closeness and stilled. Charlie leaned back and swept her hair aside with his hand and spoke in a low tone into her ear, "promise me you won't do anything dumb. I'm not worth it."

She shook her head sharply no. He tightened his grip on her and repeated his demand again, "promise me, Da…Reese."

And then it was there again, the line they didn't cross, the sexual tension he kept ignoring. He'd nearly called her by her given name. He could feel his heart beating so hard, he was certain she could hear it, feel it - pounding against her shoulder blade. Then she spoke so softly, he almost thought he'd dreamt her words, "let me go Charlie."

And he did, but he felt her there - a moment after she left, he smelled apricots and something else that wasn't shampoo or body wash. He realized the exotic, intoxicating smell that he was unable to pin down all week was her; not any fragrance - it was the woman. It was Dani that was driving him mad.


	2. Chapter 2 Strawberries & Certain Death

**III. Strawberries & Certain Death**

Charlie brought a small brown paper bag in to work with him and set it gently on his desk. He unfolded and opened the top; smiled down at whatever was inside, and then ever so carefully reached in to retrieve it, like it was a priceless piece of crystal. When he placed the contents on his desk, all Dani saw was a pint of strawberries.

She scowled first at the strawberries, then at her partner. "All that over strawberries," she remarked sarcastically.

Charlie plucked one from the little carrier and marveled at it. "Yes, but just look at them. Rich, ripe, red and luscious - perfect."

"Honestly, Crews," Dani spoke to him dryly. "You talk about fruit the way most men talk about women."

"Do I?" he quizzically stared into the air, then at the strawberry and lastly, deliberately locked eyes with his partner before popping the strawberry into his pale lips and groaning. He chewed with relish and ended smacking his lips, "I guess I just really love strawberries."

She ignored him and his damned strawberries and returned to the mountain of paperwork they had to do before the arraignment of their current murder suspect.

"You know?" he began brightly and continued in a more subdued tone, when she returned a particularly harsh glare, "this... reminds me of a Zen story," he gestured at the strawberries.

"Of course it does," she retorted snidely, "but then what doesn't?"

Dani seemed to grasp the nature of Zen better and better each day as her prescient comment indicated. He briefly examined the Zen nature of her comment in his head, before continuing his story, without regard to the fact it irritated her.

"One day while walking through the wilderness…." She glared hard at him.

He cleared his throat and began again. "One day while walking through the wilderness a man stumbled upon a vicious tiger. He ran but soon came to the edge of a high cliff. Desperate to save himself, he climbed down a vine and dangled over the fatal precipice. As he hung there, two mice appeared from a hole in the cliff and began gnawing on the vine."

"Jesus, and I thought my day sucked," she interrupted. "Next you're gonna tell me some guy leaned over the cliff and told him a Zen story," she grinned at him.

He inhaled and realizing she was baiting him – waited.

"As I was saying, suddenly, the man noticed on the vine a plump wild strawberry. He plucked it and popped it in his mouth. It was incredibly delicious!"

He sat back pleased at his telling of the story, examining another perfect strawberry before taking a small bite out of the tip and examining the fascinating texture of the strawberry's insides.

"And?" she questioned.

"And what?" he said back cheerily.

"And what happened to the man?" she raised her eyebrows in question.

"I have no idea," he stated flatly, finishing the strawberry and licking his fingers.

"That's a stupid story, Crews."

"Really?" he began, not sure Dani even listened when he told Zen stories. It was now apparent she did and that she tried to make sense of them, to understand the meaning. It fascinated him far more than the now forgotten strawberries.

"What's missing?"

"How about a story? What happened to the man? What happened to the tiger? Or for that matter the mice? It's not a story about a damned strawberry." He said nothing, but was clearly amused from the smile he wore.

"No. It is not a story about a strawberry," he offered, but then gave her nothing further in the way of explanation. He simply continued to gaze at her, the strawberries a now distant memory. His "now" contained only her.

"What?" She slammed a drawer shut and shuffled some papers, distractedly.

"I didn't think you listened to my stories," he ventured.

"I listen," she chided, softly. "They don't make any damned sense. I don't know why that surprises me. Nothing you say makes sense. You don't make any damned sense," she vented in rambling string of thoughts. Then she stopped suddenly and her head snapped up, "oh, crap I'm doing it aren't I? Talking to myself?"

Charlie's smile became softer and his head cocked to the side as he watched her assess the synchronicity of their behaviors. He started to say something only to have her stop him with a finger and the word "don't." Then she grabbed her jacket adding, "you coming?"

Charlie had no idea where they were going to and what for, but he scrambled to repackage his precious strawberries in their brown paper cocoon and catch Reese before the elevator arrived.

"You're bringing the fruit? What am I thinking? Of course you're bringing the fruit. Got your gun? Your cuffs?" she remarked wryly.

His look was dark in response, his eyes narrow, until she smiled and he realized she was playing with him. Reese joking took some getting used to; she had a deadpan delivery and a caustic biting wit, but she was not mean. Only her eyes gave her mood away, and then only to him. It made him feel special that he saw it, saw her, really saw her - underneath her tough exterior and the fact that she let him.

"If I leave them," he jounced the bag slightly, to hear weight of the strawberries settle back down inside, "someone will eat them."

"If you take them with us," she whispered, "you will eat them. It's what people do with strawberries Crews."

"I want us to eat them," he said softly, his smile, tone and affect conspiratorial.

"Who says I even like strawberries?" she shot back, as the elevator doors opened.

"You'd like these, Reese," he followed quickly, noting the sharp ring of her boots in the dark, quiet parking garage. "I picked each one out myself. Every one of them is absolute perfectly ripe, no soft spots, no green edges, just right, but they won't stay that way for long. They are only that way for a moment."

She stared at him over the roof of their unmarked with an altogether odd expression of bemusement on her face. Not quite happy, but pleased, he thought. Once inside he asked her where they were going, but she would not say, just shaking her head with a slight smile.

They stopped once, at a supermarket. Dani made him wait in the car, ostensibly so that he wouldn't buy anymore fruit and emerged with a white plastic bag, containing one fairly heavy item he couldn't divine from it's shape because it looked to him like a pickle jar.

"What's in the bag?" he inquired nosily when she climbed in and put it in the back seat. She shook her head at him and he returned a quizzical stare. He peeked over the back seat a couple times en route to wherever they were going to learn the contents her bag.

"You'll find out, don't worry," she told him cryptically. "Honestly, you have the patience of an eight year old, Crews," she scolded, but the smile on her face remained.

She pulled their unmarked into a quiet park in the city, away from the crowded city streets, sidewalks full of people and their lives. She retrieved her bag and motioned for him to follow. Charlie looked from her to the strawberries trying to decide if leaving them in the car was a good idea, when she sensed his conflict and offered a simple "bring'em, you're gonna need'em."

His curiosity peaked; Charlie grabbed his paper bag and followed his diminutive partner who strode purposefully through the park. She walked past the playgrounds full of shrieking children; watchful moms camped out on park benches and the traffic jam of strollers parked on the sidewalk. She left the paved path, ducked under the cover of heavy shade trees and removed her shades to see her way to a place she obviously knew well.

Charlie balked at the sudden darkness, when he felt her smaller hand fit into his and tug him along in the darkness of the shades. She warned him "duck" twice as she moved under low tree limbs that would catch him because of their height difference. She did not move fast, but it was clear she knew her way. His trust was rewarded in a few moments when they emerged in a sunny glade with a single, empty picnic bench; a place of quiet stillness, hidden deep within the madness and chaos of the big city that buzzed around them.

"How'd you find this place?" He wondered aloud.

"Misspent youth," she remarked. "I used to come here to get away from my dad." She explained. "You have to be very good at hiding when most of LAPD is on the look for you breaking curfew when your Dad is the SWAT Captain." She smiled at the memory of her victory.

He could almost imagine a ponytailed, defiant, young Dani Reese, here escaping from the boot heel of her stern father - rebellion seemed rooted in her nature.

Charlie looked around in wonder that they could be in the midst of the city and yet seem miles from nowhere.

Dani took off her jacket, and her long sleeved shirt, leaving just a tank top underneath. She pulled the rubber band that restrained her hair and shook it out and her shoulders were bare underneath, bare and bronzed from the sun. Charlie was mesmerized, enchanted, by the place, but also by the woman who seemed to shimmer before him in the sunlight.

"Sit," she directed and pointed to the table. "And let's see these strawberries of yours," she asked.

"Ours," he said quietly, but with purpose, "strawberries of ours." She met his eyes, smiling and nodded. She withdrew her purchase, which as it turned out was a dark chocolate from the ice cream aisle of the market.

"You can't eat strawberries without chocolate," she offered. "Pretty sure it's a rule."

She laughed. Charlie's grin widened. She was happy, conspiratorial, but happy -with him. He opened her jar for her, but declined, preferring the pureness of the fruit to the blending with the bittersweet rich dark chocolate. Dani shrugged and dipped the nose of the one of his perfect strawberries deep into the chocolate and groaned in pleasure at the combination of tastes when it hit her taste buds.

Charlie thought her groan was one of the most wonderful sounds he'd heard her make - ever. They relaxed in the sunlight and he removed his jacket, but mindful of his fair skin and freckles, only rolled his sleeves up to mid forearm. The wood of the picnic table was warm and they talked easily of work, Ted's illogical fear of coyotes and Dani's laughter rang again in the quietness of the glade like a bell pealing.

Then she made some wry joke about Ted and the coyotes and Charlie himself laughed for the first time since she'd known him. At first his covered his smile with the back of his hand, but his mirth escaped him and he threw his head back, the reds, oranges and blondes of his hair catching like little slivers of fire and his laugher was a rich, deep sound that made her happy inside.

When he looked back there were tears in his eyes, but they were happy ones and his smile irrepressible. "I'm gonna tell Ted you said that." He chuckled again at the thought. She smirked in response, happier than he'd seen her in some time.

Minutes passed in their comfort and before they knew it the pint of strawberries was gone; they evaporated like morning dew before the rising sun and so did their reason for being there. They cleaned up the litter and put everything in Dani's plastic bag and gathered their coats and began the walk back.

"Don't you ever bring strawberries to work again, Crews," she warned, licking her fingers and laughing.

"Why? I thought you liked them," he seemed surprised and mildly offended all at once.

"Hey," she said catching his eyes, when he raised them to hers, "I do."

She paused conflicted, then continued, "but we can't do this – this or something like this - everyday. We have work, mountains of paperwork, a boss screaming for an higher clearance rate, a thousand competing priorities and I can't go play hooky with you. We are still both at the bottom of the LAPD ladder."

"No, we're not," he laughed.

"Uh…yeah, we kinda are," and when he shook his head vigorously no, she prompted him, hands on hip, with her raised brows for more. Charlie smiled at her and she suppressed a mirroring grin.

"We're not at the bottom of the ladder, Reese. We're hanging from a vine off the edge of a cliff. There's a tiger at the top, certain death below and mice chewing on the vine, but not today, Reese. Today, we are eating strawberries."

* * *

**IV. Fish & the Enjoyment of Others**

It is mid-afternoon on a searing LA summer day. The weak air conditioning seemed to make a only a tiny ineffectual dent in the oppressive heat. Everyone not already sweating hovered right on the edge of it. The air seemed stagnant, nothing moved and thirsted pervaded the squad room. The soda machine was depleted of its contents by noon. Charlie decided to send Dani an email on this day when she seemed particularly in need of some Zen. His message read:

_One day Chuang Tzu and a friend were walking by a river. "Look at the fish swimming about," said Chuang Tzu, "They are really enjoying themselves."_

_"You are not a fish," replied the friend, "So you can't truly know that they are enjoying themselves."_

_"You are not me," said Chuang Tzu. "So how do you know that I do not know that the fish are enjoying themselves?"_

He heard it the moment it hit her inbox with a sharp chirp.

She was scowling at the screen and jamming her fingers hard against the keyboard in frustration and anger. He wasn't sure what she was angry about but he desperately wanted to help, bring her some small measure of peace in a hectic day. It didn't work as he'd planned.

She clicked on the message and read it. He watched her brow knit together, she exhaled, glanced at him and then returned to the message and reread it. She was trying, he thought, trying to understand. That was progress.

"Tell me you didn't just send me an email when you are sitting three feet from me Crews," she pinched the bridge of her nose. Charlie recognized this as an indication she was about to get a headache and he talked softly in response.

"You don't like it when I tell you Zen stories," he offered apologetically.

"So you thought sending me one was some how magically going to be better?" She scrubbed her face with her hands. He shrugged.

He seemed determined to get under her skin, inside her brain and drive her berserk, with his Zen and his god damned fruit. She swore she could smell fruit, taste it in the back of her throat, but that just wasn't possible was it?

She looked up to find him scooted up to his desk close to where it joined with hers. He sat just in front of her, no more than 20 inches away, slicing pieces of a kiwi with that wicked little titanium blade of his. He had to have begun peeling the coarse brown fur from the fruit seconds after he hit the send button, and the tangy scent of it reached her as she read, she realized. He did this shit on purpose.

She watched as he thumbed a moist sea green slice along the blade and slid it into his mouth. _God, I'm thirsty_ she thought, looking into the bottom of her empty LAPD coffee mug. She sighed heavily and looked at his bright blue eyes as he slurped another piece of the succulent fruit into his mouth. There was something terrifying sexy about a man who could eat so effectively and efficiently with a four inch blade, sliding along his strong pink tongue.

She was tired, thirsty and she could feel the tension from her tight shoulder muscles travelling up her neck, germinating the seeds of a growing headache. She needed to get out of here, away from all the steel, glass and fluorescent lighting to somewhere dark, quiet and calm. She needed a bubble bath, a glass of wine and a good man, but that wasn't going to happen. She was going to get a Zen story and a piece of that kiwi, if she was lucky.

Charlie watched her watch him. He used his blade with great aplomb and took particular care to relish the fruit. He watched as she unconsciously licked her lips. He knew what Reese needed. He knew so many things Reese needed; but this day she needed Zen….and fruit.

He stopped for a moment and looked at her, locking eyes and waiting until he saw the desire there. Then he silently sliced a piece of the pale green fruit center and proffered it gently along the edge of his clean, sharp blade. His eyes said _trust me, I look different, strange, but I won't hurt you I swear_.

He watched the hesitation in her eyes and noted the involuntary muscle movement, originating like a boxer's punch, from her shoulder, as she began to reach and then checked her movement. Again the tip of her tiny pink tongue darted against her lips. He smiled at her with just his eyes and waited.

She tentatively reached out crossing the small void between them and took the kiwi tenderly, like she was holding a feather.

Charlie froze as he watched Dani tilt her head back and lay the sliver of fruit along her tongue. She let her neck relax and her head tipped back as she closed her eyes and absorbed the tasty little fruit melting away in the heat of her mouth.

Charlie didn't move. Even his knife stilled, as if frozen in mid slice, Crews simply sat watching his partner, mesmerized, enchanted, trying to imagine what the kiwi tasted like to her. He could imagine the feeling of the gentle tartness, the tiny seeds and the buttery texture against her hungry mouth and tongue, as she let herself enjoy the mild, but special little fruit, only moments before hidden from the world in it's plain brown wrapper.

Tidwell magically appeared from his office, standing between their desks and cleared his throat to get their attention. "Uh…am I interrupting? Somethin' going on here? A little Zen meditation Detectives?" he wryly joked.

Dani's head snapped back and her peaceful expression evaporated. She looked mildly embarrassed.

Charlie glared at Captain Kill Joy, a look she did not miss.

She returned to the furious typing, placing a disused pencil in her mouth. She clamped down on the sad little pencil, chipping away bits of paint as her teeth sunk into the soft wood. The taste of wood and lead on her tongue was bitter and ashy after the juicy, semi-sweet and tantalizing taste of kiwi.

Tidwell walked away, his task complete – having interrupted their moment, but she looked over to find Crews had not moved. His elbows remained perched on his desk, his jacket was off and sleeves rolled up mid forearm. He held the silver blade in his right hand and the half eaten kiwi in his left. She looked closer and the blonde hair on his knuckles glinted in the morning sunlight, slicing through the windows of the squad room. The silver wristwatch on sparkled on his freckled wrist and a few random scars peeked out from under his ever-present long sleeves on his exposed forearm.

She suddenly realized Crews almost never wore anything that exposed his arms or torso. She'd read somewhere in his file when he was first assigned to her that he was beaten and cut repeatedly in prison, but she never consider it was why he was so carefully clothed until this moment. Everything about him seems hidden in bright shades and acute angles; only his eyes seemed unaffected and they were a vibrant, clear, piercing, blue, yet somehow warm and looking straight at her.

"Don't let him do that," he said in a measured tone. She inclined her head in a silent question. "Don't let him wreck a moment for you. Make you embarrassed or ashamed of the enjoyment of a simple thing."

"Don't assume you know how he makes me feel?" she said immediately defensive.

He paused a moment and when she looked back said quietly, "you're not me, so you don't assume that I don't know - how he makes you feel," repeating the Zen lesson back to her.

She sat quietly stunned for a moment as the meaning of the story came rushing back. She looked from the still open computer message on her monitor to her red haired partner, sparkling in the morning sun, twice, before he slowly began to smile.

Dani stared at him for a long moment, unable to summon any look at all.

Then ever so slowly, Charlie's blade resumed its work. He never looked down, as he deft hands worked silently, offering another clean slice of the crisp tangy kiwi to her. His eyes again made their silent plea and she accepted his offered gift gently.

This time as the sweet fruit entered her mouth, she kept her eyes on Charlie as he sliced another piece for himself and deftly slid it into his mouth off the blade of his knife. His eyes twinkled and he had the audacity to wink at her. She had to duck her head to hide the grin that emerged on her face.

When she looked up, the kiwi was gone and Charlie was licking his fingers. He seemed to consider licking the knife before deciding it was not a good trick for mixed company and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his blade down.

"That was good," he commented.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "it was good. I enjoyed it," she admitted.

Charlie just nodded as if he already knew….and maybe, she considered - he did.


	3. Chapter 3 Awareness & The Ritual Cat

**V. Full Awareness**

**Series Context**: Takes place during the Season Two episode "Trapdoor" – during Reese's relapse, after she shows up at the mansion drunk, but before the raid on Roman's club - sort of a missing scene.

_After ten years of apprenticeship, Tenno achieved the rank of Zen teacher. One rainy day, he went to visit the famous master Nan-in. When he walked in, the master greeted him with a question, "Did you leave your wooden clogs and umbrella on the porch?" _

_"Yes," Tenno replied. _

_"Tell me," the master continued, "did you place your umbrella to the left of your shoes, or to the right?"_

_Tenno did not know the answer, and realized that he had not yet attained full awareness. So he became Nan-in's apprentice and studied under him for ten more years._

Charlie sat in his bed, reading Zen stories, with his hand absently stroking his partner's long dark hair. She would never have permitted him the intimate gesture if she were conscious. Some times she reminded him of a big wild cat, a leopard with its dark intricately patterned coat or a sleek panther, graceful, silent and lethal. One that you knew had a luxurious coat, a warm lively feeling and you ached desperately to touch, but could only safely contact once they'd been tranquilized.

She was now tranquilized, heavily sedated, but she'd done that to herself and Charlie desperately wanted to know why. She mumbled something unintelligible. He shushed her, speaking in low tones, assuring her she was safe and held his breath until she settled back down. He watched her breathing even out as she lay in his bed, as close to unconscious as he'd ever seen her after visiting the downstairs bathroom to purge the vodka from her system. He could only recall snippets of the conversation.

_Reese, you're drunk_

_Drinking, not drunk_

_How long have you been drinking?_

_Since I was twelve_

_I meant today_

After a brief discussion, which only failed the stronger title of argument by a scant few hurled insults, and not for want of curse words, it was decided she would sleep it off at his place for a few hours. He reasoned that she got there by means of driving her little Toyota and Charlie put his foot down - she was not driving home - not drunk. She might get busted; hurt herself or worse - he argued - hurt someone else. That last part seemed to get Dani's attention and she acquiesced, letting herself be led up his winding marble staircase where she promptly collapsed into his bed at the end of the long empty hallway.

He'd brought a lot of women up those stairs, down that long hallway with the penultimate destination of his bed, but none more precious than the one he now held loosely in his arms.

She'd kill him if she knew he'd crept into the room and slipped beside her, cradling her in his arms, just to be close to her while he thought. She'd not speak to him for a week if she knew he whispered reassurances into her hair and stroked it absently while his mind wandered.

He tried to stay away, but after Charlie put his stubborn little partner to bed, he'd puttered around the kitchen, doing nothing; moving around, tinkering and flitting about like an errant insect. He was unfocused, actually that was untrue, he was focused but it was entirely on the young woman in his bed.

_Why was she here? Why was she drunk? Why was he partnered with – of all people – Jack Reese's daughter? Why did he care so damn much about her? What she thought, what she felt? How had he let that happen?_

The smooth skin of her forehead was warm as he lifted an errant strand of hair from her face. She turned into his palm, seeking contact with him subconsciously. Her small arms pulled on his torso, hugging him in her sleep as she lay against his chest.

He trailed a finger down her well-defined cheekbone and then traced her tight jaw line examining her up close without having to hide his study. She was like fine crystal, with a million cuts and angles; she was beautiful in a quiet way, but she hid it. She was small but powerful, like an Arabian horse, with a tiny frame filled with fire and fury; fleet of foot and never in one place…or with one man for long.

There were subtle things he noticed too; things that had nothing to do with her countenance or beauty and everything to do with her spirit. Rebellion dominated her mood, anger her affect, but who was she rebelling against and who was she angry with? Whoever it was - that had started long ago. _Was it her father? What had he done to her?_ _Why was knowing things so important to her? Why was it so important to him?_

Jack Reese struck him as a bully, a mean man and she'd admitted as much; but anything she'd suffered at the hands of her father had failed to break the young woman's spirit. No, that damage had been done by love, a bittersweet one that stole her heart, her soul and her faith away. But her spirit and the deep internal fire that propelled her through life shone out of her eyes, like a phoenix rising from the ashes of what was there before.

Charlie knew what that was like. To let go, to die completely, after that it was said, you could not be misled, but that wasn't entirely true. They were still being misled, both of them. And they were misleading each other, though not for the same reasons. He lied to her to protect her. She lied to him to hide her weakness, but it was not something she needed to do. He needed to make her see that.

There were times when she literally took his breath away; most often when she was well and truly pissed, usually at him, but still she was beautiful in an ethereal way like a fiery angel or a demon goddess. But her anger, her fire, her ethereal beauty came at cost; she pushed everyone away - until Tidwell. For some indefinable reason she'd let him in, it irked Charlie that she chose him, but he was happy that she was happy. _Wasn't he?_

His life was full of questions. _Who had done this to him? Why? Why kill the Seybolts? Why frame him?_ But when he lay there holding her, those questions and his burning need to know the answers and have his revenge were forgotten - all he saw was her.

He would have to call Tidwell. He would have to tell the man about Dani's relapse or she would have to. Charlie had already decided he would bear the brunt of her anger to save her the pain of the disclosure.

It was a talk he looked forward to like gargling turpentine after a root canal. Just then, his cell phone buzzed quietly in his pocket. He cringed as the caller id told him it was Tidwell. His time was up.

"Crews," he answered softly.

"Oh, thank god," the man said excitedly. "Crews, have you seen Dani?"

Then without waiting for an answer, Tidwell continued, "She left here this morning, I think she's been drinking," he said excitedly, delivering the news that saved Charlie from the painful disclosure of his partner's relapse.

Charlie looked up at the heavens thanking whatever deity held sway for that small favor. "She's here," he told the Captain softly.

"I don't know, for sure. But I had vodka in the freezer, it's gone and so is she."

"She's here," Charlie repeated softly, as he stroked his partner's back.

"Oh," was the surprised response from his boss. "And she's okay?"

"She will be," Charlie, promised solemnly, his oath washing over his partner. "She will be." There was a long silence as each man was absorbed by his own thoughts, mulling the other's significance in the life of the young woman they both clearly cared deeply for.

"You take care of her Crews," Tidwell directed, his voice thick with emotion and dripping with jealousy like poison from his lips. He ended the call before Charlie could respond.

Dani stirred slightly, mumbling again, and he stilled her with his arms encircling her, and unconsciously dropping kisses into her hair. The stiff, biting aroma of vodka clung to her, mixing with the citrus smell of her shampoo, making the woman seem like a fruity cocktail. She was more dangerous than any drink, Charlie thought wryly.

Dani Reese could cut a man in ways that made him feel like he was sliding down a razorblade into a pool of alcohol. She was salt in an open wound, but he was drawn to her darkness and the pain she promised. She was his dark secret, the idea that he loved as much as the draw of vengeance he fought daily.

She would wake in a few precious minutes and she would leave. She would try hard to never speak of this again, but he could not forget. He became fully aware that she crept into his heart as quietly as a cat. No amount of wondering would tell him when or how it happened, but there she was and there she would stay, his secret. He would keep her secret - because buried in it was one of his own; one that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

It was, as Confucius said, "The hardest thing of all to find a black cat in a dark, especially if there is no cat." Charlie was in the dark, searching for something he was not even sure existed.

* * *

**VI. The Ritual Cat**

**Series Context**: Takes place post Season Two – after the events in One.

It had a been two weeks since Roman Nevikov had taken Reese, Charlie traded his life for hers and then dispatched Roman and miraculously escaped with his life. For Charlie it was an epiphany, a moment that defined the course of the rest of his life and shone a light on what was important – and who.

For Reese it was less clear. She was still in a relationship with Tidwell, although her heart knew that was not where it belonged. She could not be there and yet she could not take the leap that her heart wanted to. She held herself in check and became stuck. Her dilemma wore on her, making her even more sarcastic and angry than usual. Her sharp tongue and her vicious streak showed in abundance.

Most people attributed her attitude and demeanor to PTSD from her captivity, but there, buried deep under the rest, was the nagging notion that she felt far more of a connection to her tall, red-haired partner than she should – than she was supposed to. That thought rubbed and scratched and irritated her until she snapped at everyone from him to Tidwell to complete strangers.

Charlie knew better than to try and talk with her about it. He loved her, but he knew that was not enough. He was pretty sure she loved him and he was positive that terrified her. He knew that Dani would do what Dani always did; unravel - damaging no one but herself in the process and that was the part which really ate him up inside.

He knew the day she started drinking again. She couldn't hide it from him. She could hide it from others, her peers, other detectives, her boyfriend and boss, but not from him. He saw the glaze in her eyes and the guilt hidden behind him. She was destroying herself because of him; he had to do something about it and that meant confronting Reese and her renowned anger.

He stupidly thought that if he gave her time and space, she'd work it out on her own, but that didn't happened. Each day got darker like the inevitable approach of a massive storm, one that blacked out the sun, slung two by fours through full grown oak trees and spit rain like shards of liquid glass blindly ahead of its fury. Ultimately he knew the situation would explode; Reese would explode.

It would be a sub-nuclear explosion, but there would still be fall out and damage; he didn't care how much he got burned, how bad it hurt or who else was collateral damage – he just wanted Dani to stop hurting herself.

He took a deep cleansing breath and started by lying to her, not the best tactic, but it worked. "Reese, we got a call. I'll brief you in the car," he gave it to her rapidly before he lost his nerve.

She grabbed her jacket and with a furious frown fixed on her face stomped without comment to the elevator. It made him feel even worse that she took him at his word and he was going to destroy even that trust. They rode in silence to the parking garage, but he used the length of his stride to get in front of her.

"I'm driving. Give me the keys," he directed. There was no give in his tone.

What the fuck?" she groused.

"Keys now, Reese," he ordered firmly. He could be tough when he had to - even with someone he loved. Now was that time. She was sullen, but she surrendered the keys and climbed in the passenger side, slinging her seat back like a petulant child.

"Got enough leg room there?" he caustically commented.

She shot him a ferocious look that would have killed a mere mortal, but he shook it off and started the car. "Where's the call?"

He cleared his throat and unburdened his soul. "There is no call. We need to talk."

If he thought Reese's anger was bad, her silence was worse.

He drove them to the river in silence and parked in the cool quiet under one of the many overpasses and turned the car off. Then Charlie Crews, who talked nearly continuously, couldn't summon a single word to begin what he wanted to say. He realized he really should have planned this better, had notes or 3x5 cards - Ted would have had 3x5 cards. He fidgeted and sighed a couple times, but otherwise no one spoke.

Then Dani began in a thin, quiet voice that seemed like it didn't belong to her. "I don't want to talk. Not to the Department shrink, not to Tidwell, not to my mother and definitely not to you," she spat the words at him, like each one hurt, especially the last part.

"I know, you told me – not a big talker. So I'll talk. You listen," he coached softly.

He'd put himself on the spot and he couldn't think of where to begin so he reached for his Zen, that which saved him in so many difficult circumstances.

"When the Zen Master and his disciples began their evening meditation, the cat who lived in the monastery made such noise that it distracted them. The teacher ordered that the cat be tied up during the evening practice. Years later, when the teacher died, the cat continued to be tied up during the meditation session. And when the cat eventually died, another cat was brought to the monastery and tied up. Centuries later, learned descendants of the spiritual teacher wrote scholarly treatises about the religious significance of tying up a cat for meditation practice."

Dani groaned, "Tell me you did not bring me here to tell me about some stupid cat, Crews." She threw her head back against the headrest. "Tell me you have something more important to talk to me about than a cat."

"You are the cat, Dani," he told her plainly.

"Huh?" she looked honestly perplexed at his comment. "You know what? Fuck you, Crews. Zen doesn't fix everything, hell, name one thing it's fixed for you."

He returned a hard defiant stare, one she'd never seen from him before. The force of his gaze was such that she had to look away. "You are that ritual cat, the one they tie up and torture. The problem is you are the one tying yourself, torturing yourself and you no longer even know why you do it. It's just what you do," he explained.

"So what? What's it to you?" She said defiantly.

"I know why you do it," he said softly, touching her sleeve. "Don't you want to know why you do it?"

She shrugged and he took a deep breath and continued, "You associate love with pain. It hurt so bad when you lost what you loved that you do it to remember not to make that mistake again – not to love again." He held his breath waiting to see if she understood.

"Doesn't work," her dejected admission a long bridge crossed.

Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, "That's because love and pain don't always have to go hand in hand. Sometimes there is only pain….."

Her head snapped up and she almost laughed, "If you are trying to cheer me up, you're doing a shitty job,' she smiled through her tears. "But I appreciate that you tried Crews…" she tried to close the subject.

"I'm not done." He captured her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to his, "Because I care about you, about what you're doing to yourself and why you're doing it."

She blinked; unable to appreciate his forward movement through her tear filled eyes, as he leaned across and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. He felt and heard her breath hitch and then she said his name again like she had that day in the orange grove, like a plea on her exhaled breath, "Crews."

He withdrew and held his distance. He thumbed a tear from her cheek and told her quietly, "I love you, Reese. I have for so long it's hard to remember loving anyone else."

She spoke so softly he thought he imagined it, but he distinctly heard her acknowledge his admission with a simple, "I know," as she dug the toes of her shoes into the short nap of the carpet in the passenger side floorboard.

He waited a moment before continuing, as fast he could manage the terrifying rest of his thought. "I think you love me too. But you don't have to do anything about it. All that you need to know is that I love you and I want what's best for you."

His heart raced as she nodded, acknowledging he was right again, but he wasn't even sure that she knew she'd done it, confirmed she loved him – and he was certain she was not going to say it. "If I need to leave so you'll stop tying yourself up, then I'll do that. I don't want to – but I will."

"Don't," was all she could manage, as she choked back what sounded a lot like a sob, but it couldn't have been because everyone knew Dani Reese did not cry. Then nothing was said for a long time. He didn't want to push and she needed a lot of space.

"I don't want you to be that ritual cat. I don't want you to tie yourself up," he said carefully.

"Crews, I don't want a new…I don't want you to…" unable to finish her request.

"…leave?" he finished her sentence. She nodded and her chin quivered as she fought back tears. "I won't ever leave unless you ask me to," he promised.

"I won't ever ask you to," she said quietly, making her own promise.

Dani was not ready to admit her feelings for him, but she was also not ready to let him go. "I promise, I'll stop. I'll try to stop…" she offered all that she could.

"That's good, Reese," his eyes held hers and he smiled at her before he let her know he was letting her go now, but there was more to come. "I want so much more, when you're ready, if you ever get there…but I can wait a long time. Prison taught me patience. It was yet another gift that Pelican Bay gave me," he seemed wistful.

"Some days you talk about it like you miss it," she commented shyly, eager for the conversation to go in another direction than the intensely personal tack it was currently on.

"It was simpler and harder, more economical and yet sometime cleaner, easier," he told her honestly - an absolute truth. "There was only darkness there. Fear, anger, anxiety, depravity, violence, pain; no love, no kindness, no hope - ever."

She nodded in both comprehension and silently asking him to continue as she composed herself. He gave her the space she needed and talking as he often did, while each passing moment brought about the return of the tough little Detective he knew and loved. He protected Reese even with his words.

"It's different on the outside, more complex. Better, but somehow harder too. There is beauty, kindness, love, but there is also loss, heartbreak and fear – that exists everywhere. I want to live somewhere there is no fear. Somewhere I'm not afraid to love, not afraid to tell someone I love them even if there is no hope they'll ever love me back. I try - but the fear is always there. I can't escape it."

"Don't give up," she offered in a teary whisper. "Please, Charlie, don't give up."

"Hey, if I was the kinda guy who quit I'd have been dead a year in. I'm too dumb to know when I'm beat." He smiled lopsidedly at her. She did not return his smile, but she did not look away.

"We okay?"

She nodded, but refocused her eyes down on her shoes.

"Good, cause I'm hungry," he pronounced. "It's Taco Tuesday at that place on 5th."

She smiled at him through her pain. "What if I can't handle it?" she asked in a quiet, serious tone.

"Then you call me," he said firmly.

"But you can't be my sponsor," she argued, ever the rebellious soul.

He shook his head, absolutely certain the day Reese met her maker, she'd argue all the way to heaven. "No, but I can be your partner…until you're ready…"

"Ready for what?"

"Ready for what comes next Reese. Until you're ready for where we're going next."


	4. Chapter 4 Don't Tread on Me

**VII. Full of Snakes**

Charlie stood staring at the dirt in a shadowed corner away from the crime scene until Reese noticed and sought to draw him back. Crews often became absorbed by simple, yet somehow meaningful distractions, like he was tuned in to the universe on a frequency no one else received. She cautiously walked over to see what he was staring at, but as she neared, he stopped her with an arm across her body and warned her softly, "Careful."

Once her eyes adjusted to the shaded area where her partner was staring, Dani could see a very large rattlesnake coiled, waiting to strike. It had not yet offered a warning, which is why no one else noticed it, but Charlie noticed a lot of things other people missed.

"Why doesn't it strike? Or at least rattle?" she asked, her breath coming in tight gasps. Reese had an illogical fear of snakes that her mother said women came by as a birthright - from the first days of man in the Garden and by virtue of the serpent who led Eve astray.

Dani preferred to think of the snake much more literally, as a portion of a man's anatomy, which was much more likely to corrupt than a simple fruit, like the apple Crews now held in his hand. Crews crunched into the apple and she could have sworn the snake scowled at him.

"What I wonder is why snakes have such a reputation for biting people? A person is much more likely to be bitten by a dog, or a pig for that matter, but it's snakes people fear. And…really, they don't seem that bad to me," he threw bits of his random conjecture out to the world at large.

Dani had long ago learned she was the only one who actually listened to Crews; everyone else ignored him. She alone strove to understand the man and his seemingly meaningless words, which were often layered with subtle import and almost never without some deeper purpose. By now, Dani had become used to Charlie's frequent, often nonsensical, stream of consciousness laden with non-sequiturs. It was quintessential Crews.

"If you didn't think it would bite, then why'd you stop me?" she countered gently.

"Oh…" he pulled down his shades to look into her eyes, "I'd never take that kind of a chance with you," he smiled. Her partner was protective, as always. He'd run headlong into danger, but go out of his way to prevent her from a simple paper cut or stubbed toe. It was comical sometimes the way his brain worked.

"Could we focus on the body for now? Maybe leave the snake for later? He doesn't appear to be going anywhere," she redirected Charlie to their reason for being in the lonely canyon to begin with.

He turned in her direction and looked beyond her to the body of a young man who appeared to have been dead for sometime. "Neither is he," he offered in commentary of the young man in the dirt, "going anywhere." His wry comment hung between them as Charlie fought to stay in the other moment.

She arched her eyebrows at him in silent inquiry and he softly replied, "Yeah, okay."

As he walked the few steps back to the body, re-entering the scene, she joked with him, "You know why snakes don't bite lawyers right?"

He just stared and shook his head with a slight smile twisting at the corners of his mouth. "Professional courtesy," she deadpanned as she snapped on the greenish rubber gloves and bent to examine the body with a smirk on her tanned face.

Charlie chuckled softly under his breath, no one else would have even registered it as a laugh, but in Dani's book it counted. He smiled a lot but laughed rarely; his smile was an illusion, a façade hiding the darkness just under his bright cheerful surface. The fact that he rarely laughed gave her unique insight into his tortured soul. Dani knew his demons, for they were hers too.

"Undocumented immigrant, Mexican probably, mid 20's, dead somewhere from one week to four – it's hard to tell with the heat out here." She commented her findings dispassionately in short staccato bursts of observable facts, interspersed with logical and defendable theory.

He would jump in soon and they would begin the dance that led them toward a hypothesis framing their investigation. Neither led, neither followed, they simple moved together effortlessly.

Charlie cocked his head to the side and added, "C-O-D, hard to tell from the mummification and all the heat, but I'd say these two large caliber gunshot wounds had something to do with why he's face down in the dirt." His wry sense of humor was in full swing today.

Dani grinned at him from behind her shades. She'd been moody lately, but she was stronger now. They were stronger together than either was alone.

Charlie looked back up the valley and began his contribution to the formulation of the emerging theory. "Too far from the border to be a drug mule, but probably still an illegal. What's he doing way up here? The path leads down here from those hills, it's pretty direct."

She looked from the body to the path and the long dusty trail that led to the top some 800 feet of elevation gain over about a half-mile. She sighed, knowing these were the wrong shoes for hiking, "You wanna go see what's over that hill don't you?"

"Yeah, I kinda do. You up for a little walk Detective?" He grinned at her.

"Next time we come to an outdoor crime scene I'm bringing another pair of shoes," Dani complained, as her boots pinched her toes and the slick bottoms gave her little purchase on the bare rocks.

"Want me to piggy back you?" Charlie offered with a sly smile.

"Funny, Crews. You're friggin' hysterical, you know? You should give up your day job and go into show business," she shot back, but it was friendly rather than fierce.

"That horse I bought my wife would come in handy right about now," Charlie blurted out. Sweat shone on his forehead and the back of his shirt was clinging to his broad shoulders.

"You seriously bought your wife a horse? I thought I'd misheard you," Dani said panting, as they stopped to rest. He nodded. "And she's your ex-wife you know?"

"Yeah, I know. But a promise is a promise," he returned with a shrug, "and I promised Jen a horse for our anniversary."

"Why?" She couldn't stop herself from asking, "Why a horse?"

"I don't really know," he said continuing, "Why do we want what we want - except that we want it?"

"It must be the altitude because you're making more sense than usual," she replied, negotiating a steep switchback nearing the top.

He stopped just below the crest of the hill and extended a hand to help her over the edge of a ledge that, given their height difference, would be tough for her. Dani was fit and exercised regularly, but his nearly twelve-inch height advantage made him the better climber. He hoisted her up the ledge and they stood there a moment, balanced on their toes at the edge of the rock, as the sun beat down on them.

She noticed the pink beginning to emerge on his fair face and realized they didn't have a lot of time before he'd be burnt to a crisp. "Let's go," she nudged him, "you're getting fried."

"Ladies first," he bowed slightly and swept his hand forward in invitation. Dani dug hard and scrambled the last twenty feet or so to the top. The view was tremendous but just down the hill, about 300 yards distant, lay a few very pricey mansions, on par with the size and style of Casa de Crews.

Dani's view of the crime was also changing. "Hmm….home invasion maybe? Robbery gone wrong and his buddies kill him and take the loot?"

Charlie looked unconvinced. "Pretty ballsy," he countered, "for a young kid to try and knock over one of these houses. They have pretty elaborate security systems you know?"

"No kidding," Dani's smart aleck response was just as he expected. "Let's go see if any of them have tape and our friend down there is on it." Charlie started down hill toward the houses when she arrested his movement by grabbing his shirt, "Crews. This way. We're taking the car, no way I'm climbing that hill again."

"Right," he said returning to her.

"Besides, what about your snake?" she joked.

Charlie shot her a long sideways look as they descended, "My snake?"

"Don't you want to look in on that big rattler you found?"

"Don't need to. It's like Kerouac said '_don't touch me, I'm full of snakes_'," he joked back.

"I don't get it," she told him honestly. She was thankful they could talk like this when it was just the two of them. He was the one person who didn't treat her like a china doll after the thing with Roman. Crews treated her as if nothing at all had changed, although they both knew a great many things had that day.

"I read a lot of stuff in prison, and not just Zen. Kerouac meant he couldn't be close to people because his insides were all jumbled up, full of snakes. He'd hurt people without intending to," Charlie explained.

"Never was there a better description for either of us than full of snakes," she commented. "It's like my head and heart are full of them."

He halted and stopped her with his hand on her arm, "Rest here a minute."

He breathed in and out slowly several times, slowing his heart rate and regulating his breathing, "You're not full of snakes, Reese. You just think you are." He stared out at the horizon.

"How do you know?" she asked quietly, amazed at his faith in her when she had none in herself.

"Because I can see in you great strength, but you are confused and you think you see enemies where there are none." He paused and stared into the distance before continuing.

When he spoke, his words were uttered to the universe at large, fleeing his lips on their way to the sea, but his message was for her alone. "There was once a Zen student convinced that he was being bitten by a spider during meditation. He told his master he planned to bring a knife and kill the spider, but his master told him to bring only chalk and mark an X where he saw the spider. At the end of meditation the student looked down and found the X marked on himself." He paused and looked back at her, "You have to learn not to see things that aren't there."

"So the snake is not really there?" she questioned skeptically.

"Some are, some are not," he began to descend again, "The trick is to know the difference."

By the time they reached the bottom, the coroner's van had taken the body away. Charlie retrieved some water from the patrol officers and returned to find Dani staring into the shadows, as he had been earlier.

"It's not there," she said perplexed.

"Maybe it never was," he said handing her the cool bottle of water, "Drink this, you'll feel better."

"How come you never say that on Friday night when I'm thinking about how good a beer would feel?" she joked darkly about her struggles with alcohol.

"It's good you can laugh about it," he smiled at her joke and touched his water bottle the back of her neck. "Feel better now?" She nodded. "We got a killer to catch. Let's go partner."

**Don't touch me****.**** I'm full of snakes. ~~ Jack Kerouac**

* * *

VII. The Only Constant

Dani Reese sat quietly in her "boss slash lover's" darkened office, waiting for him to arrive. She was trying to envision how she'd let her life become an endless string of clichés and mulling over whether she was about to head into another one. She'd gone from bedding a junkie lover, to sleeping with her boss and now was teetering on the edge of a fascination, with a strong sexual component, with her lanky, red haired, much older partner.

He was a study in duality, Charlie Crews; his eyes and bright smile hiding a dark vengeful soul; his ebullient mood masking a bubbling cauldron of unanswered questions and a life filled with seeking and not finding. He was a puzzle to be solved, a riddle to be figured out and somehow he still seemed the answer to questions she had not yet learned how to ask.

She'd been sitting there in the squad room for several hours after deciding that whatever there was between her and Tidwell was over - and she had to be the one to end it.

As she sat, waiting through those many hours, she allowed her mind to wander and it invariably shifted to a recent Zen reading Crews forced her to endure in their unmarked while on surveillance. In her head, she could hear her partner reading his voice excited like a child's as he tried to share his lesson with her and it made her smile.

At the time, she couldn't think about anything except how to get out of that car and away from Crews. She knew ahead of her lay the unpleasant task of extracting herself from this mess she was in with Tidwell – who, while a pleasant distraction, she did not love. Now all she could hear was Crews. He invaded her thoughts and his voice kept her company as she waited, his words echoing in her head.

_A student went to his meditation teacher and said, "My meditation is horrible! I feel so distracted, or my legs ache, or I'm constantly falling asleep. It's just horrible!"_

_"It will pass," the teacher said matter-of-factly._

_A week later, the student came back to his teacher. "My meditation is wonderful! I feel so aware, so peaceful, so alive! It's just wonderful!'_

_"It will pass," the teacher replied matter-of-factly._

Dani smiled in simple understanding of the story, one whose meaning she missed at the time. She sat still and quiet as she heard the elevator arrive with a "ding", the oiled metallic sound of the door sliding open and the sharp clipping sound of Tidwell's Johnston Murphy wingtips on the cold linoleum.

The familiar scent of his cologne swept past her as he entered his office without noticing her and sat his coffee on his desk. He silently removed his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack before sitting down at his desk and reaching for his coffee. She watched with the studied indifference a cat pays to a bird in the window, seemingly uninterested and disconnected until it suited them.

He jumped, startled, "Jesus, Dani… what the hell?"

"Sorry… I didn't mean to…I need to tell you something …say something to you," she had a problem getting started so she ducked her head and gutted it out. "You've been very good to me, very good for me, but I'm not in love with you and I'm not going to start loving you. You and I both deserve something more than what we've been doing."

"Jeez, Dani it's not even 8AM and you're breaking up with me," he joked, "Way to start my day off right." He paused for a moment, seeking her eyes. "You're sure about this?" he gave her the chance to reconsider. She nodded firmly.

"Okay, well, I wish you didn't feel that way, but after what you've been through I suppose I expected this," he explained with a small smile that said _I knew this was coming so I'm not going fight you. _She liked him best in those few moments when he capitulated to the inevitable.

She felt like she should say something more, but wasn't sure just what - when Crews' voice came to her once again. She could hear him in her head, talking in one of his endless rambling nonsensical stream of consciousness trains like an escapee from a mental ward; except that Crews' ramblings always made a weird sort of sense, days or sometimes weeks later. He was like that, under her skin, in her brain and if she let herself admit it – in her heart.

At this moment he supplied her with the right thing to say to close this chapter in her life and enter another. "Everything changes - when you realize that - there is nothing you will try to hold onto," she paused for a beat then added in explanation, "This is one of those things."

"Crews?" he questioned.

"Uh…no…well, I'm not sure," she admitted.

"You get more like him every day, you know?" Tidwell offered an opinion she knew was truth and not meant to hurt.

"Yeah, I know," she said departing.

She smiled as she stepped onto the empty elevator. There was a time when someone accusing her of sounding like or being like, Charlie Crews was an invitation to a fight. She now viewed it as a compliment. Her life was changing too.


	5. Chapter 5 Innocence & The Present

**IX. Innocent Observations**

It all started innocently enough with a question. Actually it wasn't so much a question as an observation, Charlie would consider in hindsight. But he later thought about what "they" said about hindsight – being foresight with no future - and mused it was probably somewhat Freudian on both ends.

He blurted out this thought one day on a ride to somewhere. It didn't matter what day or where they were going because those simple words threw them both wildly off track. He doubted if either of them could remember where they were headed or for what purpose now if they tried.

"You don't like getting wet do you?" he asked happily.

Dani's mind went into a sexual tailspin as she snapped her head to look at him and sputtered, "What?" in response.

Charlie returned a quizzical look because to him his question was plain enough. But, when he noticed the blush of red that crept up Dani's collar staining her face, amusement dawned and he decided to have some harmless fun with her.

"When it rains…you don't like to get wet," he smiled knowingly, "I've noticed."

He waggled his eyebrows at her and continued, "Why? What'd you think I meant?"

He knew where her mind went when he said the word "wet" and was having some fun at her expense. It was a game they now played, called "cut the sexual tension with some levity" – since Dani forbade the use of his knife.

Dani said nothing and snapped her head forward to stare ostensibly at traffic looking anywhere but at Crews. _Damn him,_ she thought. _How does he do that? Make some innocuous little comment and I dive straight in the gutter?_

"It's hard," he started then paused for effect, "…knowing what to say to you." He knew where her mind would take the first part of the statement and his grin took on a Cheshire cat quality.

"Can we not talk about this?"

"Which this is that?"

"This…here, now. Whatever this is. I don't want to talk about it," she snapped a bit more strongly than was warranted.

"You mean you don't want to talk about sex," he smiled.

"Yes," she gritted out between her clenched teeth.

"You don't want to talk about having sex," he continued toying with her.

They'd both stopped seeing other people now. It wasn't something they discussed, it just happened, but it gave him hope. He knew she'd ended things with Tidwell.

For his part, it just felt wrong to be with someone else when all he thought about was Dani. It wasn't even fun to imagine, because no matter how his fantasy began in his mind every girl became her.

"That's okay, we don't have to talk about it," he said softly.

"I don't want to even think about it," she lied.

She did think about it, about him, more than she wanted to, more than she should.

"I think about it," he confessed quickly, and then cautiously followed up, " Do you think about it?" He knew he was dancing along the line of being too personal for his cloistered partner who jealously guarded her privacy.

She growled at him and then he really did think about it.

"You're right, we shouldn't talk about it," he surrendered. "We shouldn't think about it, except that to not think about it means that we are some how thinking about it."

She groaned his name in frustration, "Crews, please."

The tiny tinge of pleading tone in her voice made it even harder…not to think about.

"Okay, let's talk about something else," he offered, and he watched the white lines drain from her fingers as the death grip she had on the steering wheel relaxed slightly.

They thankfully pulled to a curb near a coffee shop. This was an unspoken, standing demand from Dani to get her coffee. She simply looked from the coffee shop to her partner and back. After this long, he knew what she wanted, what she liked.

Most of the time she waited for him in the car, but sometimes she'd come in too, which was what accounted for his next thoughtless comment as he climbed from the passenger side and then leaned back in the window to inquire innocently, "You coming?"

Dani slammed her head back into the headrest.

"I'll take that as a no," he teased and bounced down the sidewalk and into the shop.

They weren't dating, they weren't messing around, he'd never even really kissed her, but _god he wanted to_ and he had a feeling she did too.

**X. The Present Moment**

On this auspicious occasion it was Dani who asked the question.

Dani only asked questions after much deliberation, introspection and then only if the subject bothered her intensely. To Reese the mere asking of a question intimated weakness, ignorance and it chaffed her to ask – but to him alone she could talk freely and she knew he would neither judge nor deride her for inquiring.

Sometimes however the answers he gave were not satisfactory. He often hid some nugget of truth from her and these were the most frustrating moments for them both; him trying to protect her by hiding the truth and yet keeping her close; and her seeking his trust and confidence, asking for admittance to his private club of one – it was a fine line they danced.

"They're still after you, you know," she said quietly as they ate tacos on a picnic bench overlooking the Pacific.

"I know," he said simply.

He didn't ask which "they" she was referring to. Neither of them knew. It was as much a Zen koan as trying to describe the color of the wind.

"Doesn't it bother you?" she probed.

"I can only fight what I can see," he gave her another non-answer.

"Rayborn, Nevikov, my father, the Bank of LA…what's it all mean?"

Charlie shrugged noncommittally.

"You're seriously not going to answer me?" she was getting steamed at him. She always did when he tried to shield her from the truth.

"I can't tell you what I don't know, Reese," he told her firmly and held her eyes for a moment to convey his seriousness.

"I hate it when you lie to me," she said flatly, looking away.

He stifled his protest but not before a single syllable escaped and she looked back at him unblinking. "You think you are so good at it. Everyone buys the bland look and your direct stare with those ice-cold eyes, but I know when you lie to me Crews. _Every single time you do it_."

There was just a hint of anger tinged with disappointment in her voice, otherwise it was quintessential "in your face" angry Dani Reese. It was subtle but he caught it and it broke his heart. He did not want to disappoint her nearly as much as he yearned to protect her now and it made things dangerous and difficult for them both.

He stared out at the ocean and did not respond for a long time. When he did, it was not what she wanted or expected. It was Zen he gave her - his smokescreen designed to insulate him from the rest of the world.

"_A Japanese warrior was captured by his enemies and thrown into prison. That night he was unable to sleep because he feared that the next day he would be interrogated, tortured, and executed. Then the words of his Zen master came to him, "Tomorrow is not real. It is an illusion. The only reality is now." Heeding these words, the warrior became peaceful and fell asleep."_

She waited patiently for his tale to conclude and unlike earlier in their relationship considered his words carefully. She used to just bite his head off, but things were changing.

Her reply was still wry and caustic; some things did not change, "Yeah, Charlie. Well, the warrior was not captured alone. He's got a partner and she's sick of being in the dark."

"Do you fear me being interrogated, tortured and executed?" he leaned toward her and whispered conspiratorially.

She suddenly found the dirt under her feet extremely interesting and her hand gripped the chipped paint of the picnic bench between them tightly. She was still chewing her bottom lip and considering her response, when his larger hand gently covered hers. She stared at his hand and hers, the way his completely engulfed hers, as the warmth emanating from his hand relaxed her. She eased a tiny bit and looked up and answered him simply, honestly, "Yes."

"Don't," he cautioned sternly, then switch tacks and smiled brightly, "I have the best partner in all of LAPD and nothing's going to happen to me." It sounded trite even to him.

She pulled away from him again, disappointed and angry, but he drew her back with one word, her given name riding a low, and dangerous baritone bullet, "Dani."

"I'm sorry for lying to you," he paused until she nodded before continuing. "I can't promise I will stop - because I do it to protect you from things you can't fight and shouldn't have to worry about," he explained, "but I'll try - that's the best I can manage." He met her halfway and she grudgingly gave in.

"I can't back you up if I don't know where we're going," she countered, letting him know she wasn't done with him. He nodded in understanding before changing the conversation.

"Do you think we'll always argue?"

"Yep," she fairly popped in reply, rising from the bench, "always."

"Of course that implies we'll be together for a very long time," he smiled at her.

"You should be so lucky, Crews," she taunted back while walking away.

_Lucky indeed_ Charlie thought, but then he'd always been the sort of guy to make his own luck. That particular talent required patience, tenacity and dedication, but she was worth every ounce of effort he concluded.


	6. Chapter 6 Paradise & Closed Doors

**XI. Paradise **

They stopped by her apartment so Dani could change clothes after a particularly combative arrest left her torn jeans from hard contact between her left knee and the pavement. He was distracted and he'd later blame their fight on that - more then him pushing her harder and faster than she was ready for.

She sat on her couch lacing her tennis shoes. They just going back to do paperwork and that she could do in sweats, then hit the gym she'd explained as she emerged from her bedroom with her hair in a ponytail. She was bruised but still whole and stronger than he'd seen her in awhile. Charlie really wanted to tend to the scrape or friction burn he knew lay underneath the torn fabric of her pant leg, but as usual she wouldn't let him, so he explored another sore point.

"You told me once that you started drinking when you were twelve," he began.

"I don't remember telling you that," she dug in her heels, opposing him out of habit.

"That's probably because you were drunk when you said it," he countered.

"Yeah, so," she parried, obliquely admitting partial defeat - something she'd have never done in the past.

"You told Bobby you were twelve when the Bank of LA happened," he continued cautiously.

She glared at him, her brows raised, "Yeah...so…?"

"So I think those two things are linked and I'd like you to tell me why," he asked. The look she returned was one part incredulity and one part sheer fury.

"You want me to bare my soul to you? You, who lies to me every time I ask you a direct question about your past or our future; it'll be a cold day in hell before we have that conversation," she warned him and color flushed her cheeks as her heart raced in the pulse point at the collar bone.

"Our future?" he questioned, amusement in his voice. She did not respond, but he watched her temperature rise.

"Why are you so…" he started

"…angry?" she finished.

"I was gonna say…" he began again.

"Pissed?" she offered an angry ending.

"Are you going to let me finish a sentence?" he chided darkly. He was sorry he'd started them down this path and had to rectify things. He scrambled like a man falling off a cliff, grasping for purchase to right himself - to right them both.

"No," she barked and got up to leave.

"Where are you going?" he glowered. His hand encircled her arm above the elbow, restraining her flight; his touch feather light and yet iron strong.

"Out," she snapped back and tugged against him.

"No, you're not. Not pissed off like this. You'll just…." This time not finishing the sentence intentionally.

"Go ahead, say it – get drunk? – get laid? – screw up?" she caustically baited.

"Get hurt," he finished his sentence and pulled her to him, wrapping her in a full body embrace much like he had the first day they met. "And I won't let that happen."

Being surrounded by the smell of his cologne, the feel of his strong arms, the warmth of his heart beating loudly against her ear through his shirt and the scrape of his shadowed face against her neck were all just too much. She made one feeble attempt to wrest herself from his arms before giving in.

He felt it the moment the fight went out of her and his restraint changed to something more intimate, something sexually charged, something imminently dangerous. Warning bells went off in his head, his heart pounded against his chest, his breath hitched as the intoxicating mixture of smells he associated with Dani permeated his senses. The citrus from her shampoo, apricot body wash he noted months before, mixed with some light body powder and something distinctly her. He couldn't help the deep breath of her he drew and then held along with the woman in his arms.

She did not reach for him, but she was no longer pushing him away, she leaned into him and he wanted to hold onto her for the rest of his life, but this was something they were not ready for. He had started this and he needed to stop it.

He drew back, forcing himself to place his hands on her small shoulders and increase the space between them. He made the cardinal mistake of risking a glance at his partner's dark eyes and saw the returned desire spark there in their depth.

_Oh, so very dangerous_ he thought as he watched her lick her lips, then suddenly Reese was an implacable wall again, her features schooled as she retreated from him in space and time. She pivoted on her heel and marched away without a word.

This was their dance, their push and pull, their yin and yang, always yearning but never quite achieving. That which they both wanted so very badly was always slightly beyond reaching – intimacy, trust, the natural progression of their bond. Neither was willing to love again, but unwilling to let go. He wondered if they'd ever get there or if like Sisyphus they would roll that same rock up the hill over and over again, only to watch it crash to the bottom.

As he watched her tiny form retreat into the distance, he thought about the Zen story of two lonely travelers lost in the desert dying from hunger and thirst. They finally, arrived at a high wall. On the other side they can hear the sound of a waterfall and birds singing. Above, they can see the branches of a lush tree extending over the top of the wall. Its fruit look delicious. One of them manages to climb over the wall and disappears down the other side. The other, instead, returns to the desert to help other lost travelers find their way to the oasis.

He would not go there without her, even if he had to stay lost, wandering, alone with a parched throat and empty stomach forever. Paradise was somewhere he didn't want to find if it didn't include Dani Reese.

**XII. Closed Doors**

She returned to him as she always did after a couple interminable days of aloofness and silence. Dark glares gave way to resigned sighs until she became too tired to be angry with him any longer. Slowly their balance and rhythm returned, but they were walking a tight wire high above a bottomless pit, stray but a little to either side and it was death and disaster. It made for long tense days and longer sleepless nights.

Four days after their blowout, he ventured into the free fire zone. "Reese, I want to tell you a story."

"A Zen story?" she asked, knowing the answer already.

"Why do you ask me questions that you already know the answer to?" he answered her question with one of his own. They battled with alternating stares, but he blinked first.

"Yes, a Zen story," he capitulated.

"Do I have a choice?" she sighed heavily.

"No. We're kinda stuck in traffic so you're a captive audience." He softened the bad news with a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Her mirroring smile was also tight, forced and she looked as if she was in pain.

"Have you been sleeping?" he inquired.

"Is this part of the story?"

"No. It is not. It's me wanting to know if my partner's okay," he offered an olive branch and then sweetened the pot, "because I haven't been sleeping and you wanna know why I think we haven't been sleeping? This…" he indicated back and forth with his finger. "You and me."

"There is no you and me, Crews. There's you and there's me."

He didn't show the frustration he felt at the door she kept slamming in his face, instead he began the story.

_"The son of a master thief asked his father to teach him the secrets of the trade. The old thief agreed and that night took his son to burglarize a large house. While the family was asleep, he silently led his young apprentice into a room that contained a clothes closet. The father told his son to go into the closet to pick out some clothes. When he did, his father quickly shut the door and locked him in. Then he went back outside, knocked loudly on the front door, thereby waking the family, and quickly slipped away before anyone saw him. _

_Hours later, his son returned home, bedraggled and exhausted. "Father," he cried angrily, "Why did you lock me in that closet? If I hadn't been made desperate by my fear of getting caught, I never would have escaped. It took all my ingenuity to get out!" _

_The old thief smiled. "Son, you have had your first lesson in the art of burglary."_

Dani said nothing for a long time then she asked only mildly interested in his answer, "Is that it?" He nodded slowly.

She shrugged and admitted, "I don't get it. Why do you have to talk in riddles? Why can't you just say what you mean? Why can't you just talk to me Charlie?" she asked, truly exasperated with him.

"I'm sorry. Did I just hear you say you wanted to talk?" he teased softly.

Her sigh filled the car. "Crews, I'm tired. I don't want to fight with you. We talk and talk but nothing ever gets said. I'm tired of you lying to me. I don't care what your reasons are…and I just don't think… I don't know… if I can do this anymore."

"Do you want a new partner?" he held his breath waiting on her reply.

She sighed but said nothing. Charlie Crews had reached a critical juncture in his life. He could stand-alone or let someone in, let his partner in, let Dani Reese who he had every reason to trust and who he knew he loved - in.

"We are burglars, Reese," he explained softly.

She eyed him skeptically but remained quiet as he continued.

"We are both trying to teach each other the hard won experience of thieves who live in the dark and hide from the light, hide from people, hide from life. You won't tell me why you started drinking, what happened that made you start, what happened that year of the robbery that affected you so much." She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.

"And I'm just as bad…I won't tell you who's after me or why – partly… only partly to protect you and partly because I just don't know." He rapidly delivered the rest.

"So where's that leave us, Crews?" she said glumly, not welcoming the prospect of what she knew was coming.

"Stuck," he pronounced unhappily and then stared at his hands clasped in his lap.

"How do we get unstuck?" she asked.

"I don't know," he looked at her with an honesty so clear it penetrated the days of sleeplessness and anger over their troubles. "I just don't know." He looked forlorn and disappointed in himself.

She changed lanes and left the freeway to a city street gridlocked with cars. She pounded the steering wheel twice in frustration and stared into the distance. She seemed lost for several long moments and then a smile crept across her face. With her smile, Charlie felt like people in Seattle must when the sun emerges after weeks of rain.

"Bullshit."

Charlie just stared shocked at her and shook his head in question.

"Bullshit, Crews. We aren't thieves; we're cops," she stated solidly as her smile grew. Her smile made his heart hurt, but in such a good way. He ached to touch her, just to feel the smoothness of her skin under his thumb and feel her breath leave her mouth, but he restrained himself.

"Cops don't hide in closets. Cops kick down doors. Cops chase away the darkness. I don't know about you but I'm tired of playing defense. I don't wanna wear someone else's clothes. I wanna kick somebody's ass."

"Okay…" he said cautiously, "it's not my ass you wanna kick is it?" he joked.

"Until about ten minutes ago, actually it was," she confessed, "but no, I don't want to hurt you Charlie." He actually smiled at this part. "And what's more I no longer feel the impulse to hurt myself, I want to hurt whoever's doing this to us," her statement was emphatic, strong and he saw in her at that moment the great strength he knew lurked deep within her. She was a fighter, his dark little warrior partner, and she was right – they weren't thieves.

"Us?" he questioned and she nodded at him and scowled in that adorable annoyed way that seemed to intimate it was a dumb question he'd just posed.

"Could you put the car in park?" he asked her.

"What? Why? Oh, what the fuck? Sure, Crews, here - the car's in park." She reached for the gearshift and put the car in park, with all the heavy traffic they weren't moving anyway. "You wanna tell me why?" she asked with an impish smile.

He leaned over caressed her cheek and told her, "Because I'm gonna kiss you and I don't want to have to explain an accident to Tidwell." Then he cradled her face in both his hands and paused before her parted lips, "I've wanted to do this for so long," before capturing whatever she was going to say with his lips.

Horns honked, other drivers swore and made serious hand gestures, traffic moved and still he kissed her, hearing nothing but the beating of his own heart and hers. He drank deeply from her lips. Dani's hands were atop his as she opened to him like a flower. He wanted to drag her into the backseat and kiss her senseless, but he couldn't. When they broke, he thought it might have been the best kiss of his entire life.

She smiled enigmatically and asked him, "Can we go now?"

He nodded and she put the car back in gear.

"Thanks for warning me," she smirked, "that would have been tough to explain to the Captain."

"Yeah," he said softly.

This woman was such an enigma to him, and such a treasure. She completed his sentences, his thoughts and his life - which seemed small and incomplete without her in it. He was uncharacteristically optimistic. He'd finally kissed her after nearly three years of working side by side and a full year after realizing he was in love with her. They had a long way to go, but they'd get there - together.

"You mind telling me why you decided that now was the right time to start this," she was speaking of their love affair. The one they both knew they were destined for, but had tried to hold off for many months since their mutual epiphany in the orange grove over a year ago.

"Did you ever just **know **when to do something?"

She nodded and accepted his explanation, but under that Charlie knew there was another reason. He could no longer hold Dani Reese outside his world. He either let her in or lost her forever.

"My dad killed men at the Bank of LA," she confided. "Every thing changed for us that day. The father I remember died that day. He became a stranger, haunted I guess…by what he'd done. I started drinking to escape and to mourn my father, but it's time that I stopped mourning."

He nodded and it was clear she awaited his quid pro quo. He sighed and began shakily, "I wanna tell you everything, BUT I don't know everything," adding under his breath, "some times I don't think I know anything." He looked up an finished clear eyed and strong, "and even what I do know… and what I think I know - will take some time to explain. Does that make sense?"

"No," she snorted a short laugh, "but then you never do," she finished somewhat wistfully.

"There's no one I trust more than you Reese," he cautioned, "but I have trust issues."

"Join the club," her wry humor in full swing, "but we got nothing but time right?"

He nodded and smiled to himself. They both sat quietly with their own thoughts.

Charlie knew he was in trouble. He just didn't want to take Dani into danger with him. But she had other plans. She held him back and pulled him forward in the same moment with a simple gesture or a look - and she'd said "we" again and "us" before that. Those two words meant more to Charlie than any secret he'd tell or any he'd learn.


	7. Chapter 7  Hot & Cold

**XIII. Hot**

"Are you hot? I'm hot,"Charlie pronounced glumly.

Dani snickered softly in wry laughter and shot him a sideways glance.

"What's so? Oh…so now it's funny when I say stuff like that," he teased.

She tried not to smile and failed. "It's just you say things without thinking. You do it all the time Crews. And yes…sometimes… the things you say strike me as funny."

"I meant the temperature…but you are hot," he replied and raised his eyebrows daring her to deny it. "You know it and I know it." He smirked at her.

"Don't go there, Crews," she warned, but the buoyancy in her voice let him know she didn't really mean it. Their playful banter now contained a previously absent sexual component. They toyed, danced, but never crossed that line – at least not yet.

"I thought they fixed the A/C," he complained while adjusting the vents, which only blew ineffectual hot air on them both. "This could last all night. We could be here awhile, ya know? Let's take off our jackets," he suggested.

"Bad idea," she answered.

He shrugged at her an unspoken "Why".

"We are so not having a conversation where we discuss "hotness" and then segue into disrobing," she cautioned. "This is a stake out, not a trip to the drive in."

"Jen and I used to make out in the back of my car," he blurted out.

"I do not want to hear about you and your ex, Crews," she threatened sternly. She realized they were making progress; he used to call her his wife, now it was Jen or his ex. But Dani still didn't like her or talking about her.

"You're right. That's not something we should talk about," he spoke softly almost to himself. "She wasn't hot though, not like you are."

"You did you NOT just say that again," she was getting pissed at him.

"That you're hot? Everybody knows that. The guys at the station, they talk about you all the time. Ask me what it's like to be partnered with someone so attractive, you know? I bet the ladies all talk about me right?"

"Uh…no," she snapped. "I actually have no idea what 'they' say about you because I don't gossip with people at the station about how hot my partner is," she shot back not realizing she'd just admitted he was "hot".

It dawned on her as the grin blossomed on Charlie's face and she groaned in faux agony. "Shit," she swore at herself for the oversight. His grin widened.

"You wanna know what I tell'em? The guys at the station? The ones who think you're hot?"

"No," she pouted, "I most certainly do not."

"I tell them about that first case we had together. You know the one where you and I ended up in the shower? Of course, I don't tell them I couldn't take a shower for a week without thinking about you and me under running water" he was merciless when it came to teasing her.

"You better not. And yes, I'm sure you're an oak," she said snidely.

"I don't tell them how that tank top you wore melted against you like butter and your curves stood out and how good you looked. That I keep to myself," he grinned at her, daring her to become incensed with him.

"You're sexually harassing me," she shot back, "you know that? This is harassment."

"I don't tell them any of that Dani, you know I wouldn't," he said gently. "I was just teasing."

"Yeah, well…I like to be the only tease in this relationship," she taunted and slipped her jacket off revealing her tank top underneath.

"Oh…that's so…."

"Not fair?" she questioned.

"Hot," he responded smiling and bent to place a light kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"Stop it, Charlie," she warned. "Our relief will be here any minute."

"Then put your jacket back on," he instructed.

"Don't you want them to talk?" she teased.

"Nope. That's just for me," he smiled. "Everyone else can just wonder."

XIV. Cold

The flu had been going around the department, it was only a matter of time before one of them caught it. As luck should have it, it was determined little Dani Reese who was first sneezing and denying in the morning; then coughing and shaking her head at lunch; and by 3PM she was shivering when Charlie put his jacket over her shoulders and announced in an unflinching tone, "Come on, we're going home."

She was far too tired of fighting the illness to summon the will to argue with him and that was when Charlie realized how very sick she was.

Being sick didn't stop Dani from grumbling nearly all the way home. After a brief stop at a market, where Crews bought copious amounts of fruit, soup and a prodigious proliferation of OTC cold medications, he steered the car toward her house.

"Great," she groused, "now it looks like we are going home to cook meth," as she peered into the bag he sat on the floorboard beside her. "And who's all that fruit for?" she eyed him suspiciously. "I hope you don't expect me to eat that," she announced darkly.

"No, that's for me. I've seen your cupboards and there's nothing in there resembling fruit," he chided. "How am I supposed to keep my resistance up without Vitamin C?" he joked. "For you I bought Tang. Astronauts drink it and it's got a ton of Vitamin C in it."

Dani just made a face and said glumly, "You're not staying, Crews. You're dropping me off and going to your own home. I don't need a nurse."

"Uh-huh," he noncommittally responded.

When he tacitly agreed with her, it was a sure bet he planned on doing anything but what she'd said. It was his way of saying "no" without actually uttering the word. But she was too tired to fight him on it and he knew it, as she sneezed for the fifth time in four minutes.

"You're not staying…" she warned. He just nodded and said "uh-huh" again. She tried to growl at him, which ended up as a fit of coughing that left her breathless.

"They say the bug this year is very tough and comes on fast," he spoke softly hoping that she'd see reason and not argue with him…the whole time. Actually he wished she'd argued more, because a Dani Reese too sick to fight was a scary prospect.

"You were fine this morning and now look at you…who knows how sick you'll get tonight," he probed gently. He wouldn't force himself into her home, but he didn't want her alone. "I could take you to your mom's," he offered her another option.

She'd coughed until her eyes watered but still managed to shoot him a look so dirty it would have killed a mere mortal. "No thanks," she said hoarsely. She slumped against the car door and finally admitted the obvious, "Just take me home, I feel terrible."

"I know you do, honey, but we're gonna fix that." He chattered excitedly, "we'll get you home in a hot bath, with some warm soup and snuggled up in bed and you'll be back to kicking my ass in no time." This produced a wan smile from Dani and her eyes began to look glassy from fever he realized.

Another indication of how very ill his young partner had become was that she had no reaction whatsoever to his verbal slip and witty banter. He waited for her to respond negatively the moment the word "honey" left his lips. Instead Dani stared into the distance. Although he was thankful her coughing spell had abated, he was unsure of where she'd gone, as she simply concentrated on just breathing steadily. It seemed to take effort for her.

"I usually just take enough Nyquil to knock myself out and wake up when it's over," she said sadly. "I don't suppose you bought Nyquil though."

"Forty percent alcohol by volume Nyquil? Uh…no," he teased. "Surprisingly doctors have found that scotch does not kill the flu either, although it makes you more comfortable while you suffer." He paused when she showed no reaction.

"Reese," he asked quietly, "are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?"

He winced preparing himself for her caustic reply, but none came. His sly smile and witty comments were wasted on empty air. He glanced at her to see that her eyes had drifted shut and she was sleeping against the window of the car.

His loud sigh filled the car. She was very sick and he was in big trouble.

Her mood worsened as he dragged her from a fitful sleep to the inside of her small apartment. "How can I miss you if you won't go away?" she groused as he carried grocery bags and walked directly to her kitchen turning his back on her. Just watching her feel this bad bothered him.

"Go take a bath and I'll fix some soup," he directed.

"You're pretty bossy considering this isn't your house," she shot back, but disappeared down the hall.

Dani appeared about twenty minutes later with her hair done up in a pony tail, wearing LAPD sweats and looking squeaky clean. Even without makeup she was striking, but her constant sneezing distracted him from that train of thought. "Sit. Soup's on," he commanded.

Her dark look did not stop her from complying, but he knew she was only tolerating his directness because she lacked the capacity, will and strength to fight him on it.

He brought her a piping hot mug of chicken broth and sat beside her on the couch. He tugged an errant throw from the back of her couch and draped it over her shoulders. Charlie Crews then projected an ease he didn't feel, by propping his feet up on the coffee table and opening a magazine.

She snickered softly and inquired, "Read Women's Health often?"

"What?" he asked. Then as she gestured with the cup at the magazine he was holding before coughing repeatedly. "Shut up and drink your soup," he chastised.

She settled back into the small couch and he noticed she was closer to him than necessary. He tossed the magazine into the nearby chair and offered his broad chest to her, "Come're", he said gently and he loosened his tie and began rolling up his shirtsleeves. She seemed to consider his intent for a long moment before she leaned gingerly into his embrace and put her feet up on the other end of the couch.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" he quietly commented, not expecting a reply. True to form, she sipped her soup and didn't answer. But he felt her relax in some small measure as the warmth of his body seeped into hers. He ran hot and he knew it. Jen used to tell him he was "own personal space heater". Dani was drawn to it as her small chilled body suffered with temperature variances.

"You don't have to stay," she said sounding small and faraway.

"How about we agree I'm not staying for you and admit I'm staying for me?" he offered. She sighed and accepted that he would not leave her.

"You're gonna get sick too," she warned.

"Nope," he said as he draped an arm across her shoulder and then reached around to take her cup and place it on the end table beside him. "I'm impervious to disease, colds and flu. It's the fruit." He laughed gently and pulled the throw tighter around her and snuggled her into his chest.

"You're really warm," she commented sleepily as she yawned.

"You mean I'm hot?" he joked.

She had to chuckle as their earlier conversation in the car came to mind, "Those words will never come out of my mouth," she smiled as her eyes slipped closed.

"I know Reese, I know." He exhaled and stared at the ceiling willing himself to remain still and quiet as she drifted off to sleep.

She woke nearly ninety minutes later. He'd drifted somewhere himself and was jostled awake by her departure from his arms. "Where you goin'?" he inquired sleepily.

"To bed, I can't sleep here, you're too hot," she yawned in response.

As his chuckle reached her, she realized what she'd said and groaned. She threw the blanket he'd wrapped her in over him and retreated to her bedroom.

He stretched his long limbs, rotated his feet from the coffee table to the couch, shucking his shoes in the motion. He pulled the blanket close, inhaled her scent that clung to it and got comfortable. He fell asleep with a contented smile on his face with his partner safely ensconced in her own bed for the rest of the night.

He could rest easy – and she thought he was hot.


	8. Chapter 8  Favorites & Scars

**XV. Favorites**

"Do you think two people can ever truly love each other?"

"What?" Dani choked on her drink, nearly snorting Coke through her nose at the abruptness of his query.

"I asked if you thought…" he began repeating his question.

"I heard what you said," she interrupted, "its just…." sighing heavily. "Can't you ever ask me anything simple? Something easy?" she complained.

"Like?" he offered.

"My favorite color? My favorite restaurant? My drink preference? How come it's always gotta be these end of the world, deep questions?"

"I know your drink preference – coffee - and your favorite restaurant – Tia's," he offered. She shot him a sideways questioning glance and he nodded in assurance he did in fact note these things. She smiled shyly, but did not answer him.

He sucked on the straw in his own drink, "Do you?" he continued undeterred with his original train of thought.

She hadn't recognized how doggedly he pursued things when they first began working together; now she knew better than to try to deflect or dissuade his line of inquiry. He was like a dog with a bone; he wouldn't let it go, so she gave him what he wanted – the truth, her truth.

"I guess…. I dunno…. I hope… I hope so," she responded honestly, but rather unenthusiastically, adding as an after thought, "But that's not been my experience."

"Me neither," he said sounding uncharacteristically glum.

"I don't really think about it all that much," she volunteered, "Not since…." Then fearing she'd said too much Dani became the impassive, inscrutable wall of indiscernible moods she was when he first met her. She resumed her default setting – angry, "Why the fuck is it so important anyway?" she snapped.

"Wanna know what I think?" he asked quietly.

Her wry response was peppered with frustration and anger, "Do I have a choice?"

He shot her a dark look of his own and she swallowed hard knowing Crews was intimate with heartbreak and betrayal himself. Her heartbreak bubbled to the surface and lay there waiting like lava from a volcano for some unsuspecting fool to break through the tough crust and fall into the molten hate just below. But Charlie had mastered the art of walking on hot coals; he was ready for her. She shrugged indicating he should continue, but Charlie made her wait - then he made her ask for it all without saying a word.

"Okay…okay, what do you think?" she glowered; knowing he'd just forced her to ask something she didn't really want to know and didn't want to talk about. He could do these things to her– how - she could never figure out, but he did things to her that defied explanation.

"I think that until we love ourselves we are incapable of loving each other," he said very intimately.

"Are we talking about us or people in general?" she inquired, ducking her head at the personal insinuation.

"Do you wanna talk about us?" he asked carefully, after a beat added, "Is there an 'us', Reese?"

She nodded. He was never really sure if she consciously answered him when he asked those types of questions or if her heart did it for her and she just couldn't control the non-verbals.

"Yes? Yes, you wanna talk about it? Or yes, there's an 'us'?" he delicately asked.

"When have I ever wanted to talk about anything, Crews?" she smarted back looking beyond him. She wanted out of this conversation bad enough to jump into moving traffic on the 405.

He nodded, finding his answer in her non-answer. There was an 'us' but she did not want to talk about it and if he pushed, she ran. He touched her arm, "Hey," and her exasperated sigh told him everything she dreaded, but she returned to him anyway.

She looked at him expectantly waiting for that next tough question.

He smiled softly, and surprised her. "What's your favorite color?"

The expression she wore was both priceless and wondrous as her smile dawned like day breaking after a long dark night. "Red," she whispered to him and spun on her heel and left him standing there speechless.

XVI. Scars

They were in the park, taking a well-deserved break from a morning spent canvassing the bordering housing complexes for witnesses in yet another murder case. She was particularly introspective on that morning and had been very quiet as she finished her coffee, which he quietly took from her and deposited in the trash before reclaiming his seat alongside her on a bench in the sunshine.

He wanted to ask something, but had no idea what. Dani did this to him at times, robbed him of questions. He could spend hours in her presence and feel no need to extract data from her in the form of questions, some times just being there quietly together was plenty. Maybe that was why her question surprised him.

"When you were shot," she began tentatively, feeling her way through a question she ached to know the answer to. "When you were shot the paramedics took your shirt off…"

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he quipped. Charlie was always handy with the verbal parry when the topic involved looking inside his battered psyche.

She brushed it aside knowing its origin was the betrayals of trust he'd suffered in the past. But she was different, they were different and deep down he knew that. His reaction was habit, one that was hard to break, but was destined to crumble in the wake of their advancing connection. A lot of walls were falling between them, more every day it seemed.

"There were a lot of scars there," she ventured into deep and uncharted waters.

Turmoil churned in the ocean blue of Charlie's blue eyes, his panic was subtle but she saw it. "We don't have to go back there," she offered.

He took a deep cleansing breath and reached for his Zen. He no longer felt the need to say it aloud to Reese, she waited for him, patiently – and that was new too. "Not all my scars show. The deepest ones you can never see. No one can see them." He gave her an absolute truth.

"Hmmm…this I know," she mused. "Just cause I can't see them doesn't mean I don't know - some things you don't have to see to know," she said presciently.

They were out in front of the storm, on the leading edge, where the air is clear and crackled with static electricity. It was a heady mix. They were bridging the gap, building intimacy with fragile glass building blocks of trust and transparency.

He reached for her hand and she gave it freely, reaching to meet his. Touch with no end state, no goal but to comfort, it was new to her, but the moment Charlie's warm palm clasped hers they both relaxed. He looked to the heavens and released a shuddered breath.

"I'm not very good at this," he confessed.

"Which this is that?" she queried and he shot her a sideways glance. Dani Reese was the most unintentionally Zen person he'd ever met. Sometimes he swore she did it on purpose, but for the expression on her face, which was open, innocent and guileless.

"I….uh…well…" he looked down at his lap, unsteady, unsure and tethered to the world only by her small hand holding his.

She sensed his discomfort, the way he seemed lost and trailing away from her and she sought to call him back. "Charlie," she breathed softly her voice barely above a whisper. It was simple but powerful so she used it sparingly, but it seemed to have an almost magical effect – his given name off her lips.

Not Crews, not Detective, not anything else, just his name - his real name, the one he had chosen for himself, not Charles like his father, just Charlie. That was him and she knew him.

"Charlie, you here?" she questioned with a devilish grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. He nodded, but said nothing. "I'm not gonna have to give you mouth to mouth am I?" she joked.

"You'd do that?" he asked somewhat forlornly, still halfway between the past and the present.

"Yeah," she smiled, "but I'd rather do this," she said as she rose, stepping between his legs and trailed her hand down the side of his face, as she leaned close and gently kissed him.

Slowly she was healing his scars, the ones you couldn't see. She was a salve for his soul. Never in a million years would he have believed they could be the answer for one another, but now he knew – every day above ground truly was a reason to celebrate and she was part of that. In his heart a small cascade of fireworks erupted.

She stilled inside his personal space, deeply, intimately inside his space. Her hair fell across his face like a whisper, keeping them both in the shade of her dark tresses and in that moment he was not capable of restraining himself. He reached for her and she did not pull away.

_**Author's Note**__: Think I'm gonna leave it there folks….leaving the rest to imagination - hopeful, leaning forward, with both Crews and Reese in a good place and full of potential for "what comes next". Like Charlie I don't believe in the future, just the now - but although no one knows what comes next - everyone does it._

_I appreciate the reviews (and yes, the watchful eyes of my beta – Jo Taylor can be seen at work in some of the more cogent chapters), I think we all continue to miss these beautifully written, rich and well portrayed characters and Life. _


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